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User blog:MichaelDiaz101/Michael's Final Year at Bullworth: Chapter 12
You Know How it is. Michael had finished packing his small assembly of clothes into his humble little pack when Charles had come in. Michael had just sat up when he first noticed Charles was in the room. "Hey, man." He greeted Charles. "You heading to see your mom for Christmas?" Charles asked. Michael appeared exasperated as he nodded. "Yeah," He said, trying to force a grin but only appearing glum instead. Michael was not very fond of the man that his mom had decided to marry, and as such he was very reluctant to go home to see his mother. "As you can tell I'm just so excited to go home for the holidays." Michael intoned with false excitement piercing past his lips. "You could just not go." Charles retorted, in a matter of fact tone as he slowly eased his way onto his bed and folded his arms together. Michael just rolled his eyes. "Really wish I could." He responded. "But I have to make sure my mom isn't getting hit by that asshole." He said, in reference to his stepfather. He could envision the face of that prick and it made him seeth with anger and rage. He picked up his bag of clothes and bid Charles a farewell. "See you after Christmas you fucking loser." Michael says, in a sweet tone and a silly grin. He then walked out the door and went to the street. He awaited the arrival of the wayward taxi. After about five minutes Michael could see a brutal assembly of yellow coming over the hill and as such Michael picked up his meek bag, and prepared for oncoming disappointment. The drive to the distraught apartment was not a great trip, it was roughly only a few minutes away but Michael didn't really want to walk with how frigid it was outside, and even with that he layered up it was still cold. He looked up at what was his former home and noted the far worse state that it had become since his moving out. At this moment he prefered the striking cold of the outside over whatever lie inside his little, claustrophobic apartment. The mere recollection of what transpired between him in his stepfather came to a steadfast reminder in his brain. Finally, he trailed forth, slowly. He opened the creaky door and entered the apartment, the faint smell of decay breached his nose. Michael was all but used to it at this point. He made his way up the stairs and planted himself firmly at the door that was a gateway to his family. He considered whether he should knock or just barge right in. Instead he remained stoic, in the deepest outlines of thought, and it was such a deep transition into thought that he hadn't even noticed the door open before him, and there stood his sister. Her features held a smile, but what lie beneath was a haunting display of pain. "Hey, Milky." She greeted him, queitly. Michael responded by giving a slight nod. "How are things?" He asked, carefully monotone. He wasn't excited about the prospect of seeing the sight of his stepfather. His slight frame, gravely dark smile, or suppressive nod. He wished to completely erode that part of his past from his life, but this was for his family. His mom who he'd scarcely seen over the years, or his sister who hasn't really had her brother around. "Oh, you know." She said, eyes drawn down to the wooden floor tiles. He knew that she was thinking what he was thinking, just by studying those withdrawn blue eyes that he had. He never really observed himself in this state of catonic thought, but how she looked now was how he imagined himself looking. He sauntered through the door and felt the floor creak under the oppresive status of his weight. He moved with a slight nuance to his step, careful not to arouse any unruly suspicion. "Why are you back?" She asked worriedly. "Thought I'd see you, mom, and dipshit for the holidays." He retorted, though his voice held a different sentiment. "Well, mom is afraid of him, and you aren't around." She replied coldly. "You've been gone from our lives and then you think you can just pop back in whenever necessary, huh?" Her voice grew exponentially with a rage-filled bitterness. He understood what she felt, the two went to the same school but rarely saw one another. It was as if they travelled in two different dimensions. He missed her, he saw his sister everyday, but he still missed her. She gave forth the same longing gaze as well. He felt tears beginning to gather in his eyes, and he noticed the same from her. The two never really cried, it was kind of beneath them at this stage, but the exultant pang of sadness was only building up to where it was now. Michael embraced his sister and held her close to him for those developing moments. "I'm sorry." They both said in complied correlation. They sat down and Michael noted just how his sister had grown within the previous years. Her once short hair was longer, she had grown several inches and may have been among the tallest girls in the school, but something else appeared to be matured as well. It were as if she was a new woman. In some twisted exertion of logic he even saw himself within her. Those still, almost plotting blue eyes, and the loud personality, but then she was her own person. "When will mom and jerk be home?" He asked, embarrassed that he had absolved to tears. She was embarrassed to, Diaz's don't cry. Unless it's for something like a really sad movie, where admittedly they cry in secret. "Mom is going to come home in like an hour." She said. "Asshole decides he doesn't want to spend Christmas with his family and so he's working." Despite Danielle showing signs of being let down Michael perked up, no Christmas with that prick, and save for his actual father it's like having the family together once again! "We'll have mom." He responded in short. They waited for mom to arrive and in thirty minutes she had arrived. Michael hid behind the archway that would lead to the kitchen. She hadn't seen him as of yet. His mom walked slowly to the kitchen and when she was finally there he jumped at her, completely startling her. "Dammit Michael!" She screamed. "You always have to do that! One day I'm going to have a heart attack and you'll feel like shit." She went on to say. "Don't cuss, mom!" He said, in an orderly tone, but truly just being the sarcastic devil that he is. "We have young ears here." He said, motioning to Danielle, who had rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him. It was nice, the family was finally back together. His mom appeared to be in a better place mentally than he could remember as she was smiling, happy, and just seemed like everything was going well. This was going to be an amazing Christmas for them. Category:Blog posts